The Hunger Games Headcannons
by EnragedNoob
Summary: A collection of the HG headcannons that I have written!
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

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If you are part of any fandom, you will probably know what a "Headcannon" is. If you don't know what that is, it is an idea or belief about a series (in this case, The Hunger Games). The following chapters will be the headcannons I have written. The reason that I have not posted these as separate stories is because after a few days, It will never be seen again… (echo echo echo). So, I decided to just put all of it into one story, so each time I update it, more people can see them!

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**Enjoy!**


	2. Moments Before her Death

**Foxface's POV**

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I walk into the river, sighing as I feel the cool water running through my ankles. A soft breeze blows by, sending my red locks flying. I can feel my stomach screaming for food. After all, it has been nearly two days since I've risked my life to get some at the feast. I step out of the river onto the damp ground, leaves crunch to my feet. My legs suddenly gave apart, and I fall to the ground in a kneeling position. _I'm going to die_, I think to myself.

_Tweet tweet._ I hear a bird whistle, but not from birds. Have I been spotted? I quickly roll into the bushes, wincing as random twigs poke me in the face. I peer out through a hole in the bushes. A girl with two long braids with a bow in her hand walks along the riverbank. It was "The Girl on Fire", the girl from district 12. She must have food. Right?

I watch the girl from District 12 slowly walk into the woods, looking for prey. I crawl out of the bushes and push off from the grounds using my hands, standing up to search the area. Then I saw it.

It was camouflaged quite well in fact, good thing I have a sharp eye. I crawl towards the mouth of the cave, and move away the boards covering it. I take a peer inside as my eyes adjust to the darkness. A basket! There must be food in there from the sponsors. I guess they really can control your life and death in the games. I quietly walk up to the basket and open it. Some cheese and bread. I break off a small corner of the cheese and put it into my mouth. A delicious creamy taste fills my mouth, and my taste buds screams for more. Just as I was about to take some more, I hear voices outside the damp cave and quickly grab a handful of berries, which were next to the basket, and run out of the cave.

I run across the river, this time not taking any time to enjoy the cool water, and dive into the bushes. I take a closer look at the berries.

"And you ate without me!" A mad voice projected out of the cave. It was the District 12 girl again. Oops.

The berries were a dark shade of purple. It kind of looked like grapes, but darker. I recognize this from training. Nightlock, I think it was called, I remember that it was extremely poisonous, and can kill you before it reaches your stomach. I can't eat it. But I'm so hungry!

I suddenly think of that career from District 2. That brutal and violence one. It was either kill or be killed. But even if I do face him, I won't survive. A thought suddenly pops into my head.

I redirect my sight back down on the dark purple berries. After all, It won't be a very painful death, would it? At least not as painful and torturous than being killed by Cato. _Are you sure, __Marissa? _I think to myself. Yes. I have to do it. I won't win anyways. I reach down into my pocket, and take out a silver locket. I press the little button on top with my trembling hands, as the locket flips open to reveal a photo of my family. Everybody looked so happy, including me. But I'll never get to see them again. In no time, I start sobbing.

_One. _Oh my god why am I doing this.

_Two._ But I have to…

_Three._ Goodbye Mommy and Daddy…

With tears rolling down my face, I tilt my head backwards, and put the handful of berries in. I chewed, and swallowed. Then I just lay down on the bed of leaves, and slept…


	3. The Discovering of Her Talent

**Katniss' POV**

It's been so many years now since the rebellion ended and the Capitol was overthrown. The destroyed districts have all been rebuilt, and they look good as new. This includes District 12. All is the same except for a big white building, for traders and merchants, which replaced The Hob. Peeta has even rebuilt the bakery, the place where we first met. Come to think of it, Peeta and I have known each other for a longer time than I thought. The children are at school, probably playing, or "hanging out" as they say, with their friends. I plop myself down onto the red couch in the living room and press the button to open the TV and start flipping through the channels. No, nope, nah, nothing good's on. There really is nothing to do these days, especially since I'm home alone. Then it hit me.

I walk upstairs and push open the door, which let out a creak, to by bedroom. I walk towards the closet and pull both of the doors towards me, and bend down to wrap my fingers around a box, which I pulled out. I blow on the lid and cough, as tiny dust particles enter my nostrils. It's been quite a long time since I've even touched this. I open up the lid, revealing my old memories.

Inside the box lays a bow fashioned out of wood, and about a dozen arrows inside a quiver made of fabric. I gently take the bow out of the box and run my hand through the smooth surface. It's been while since I've done this. I'm not even sure if I still can! Ah well, let's give it a try. I sling the quiver behind me onto my back, take out my old hunting boots from the closet and slip them on. I step in front of the mirror and take a look at my self. Not bad. I stride out the room, down the stairs, and out the front door.

Walking down the street, I ignore the glances and stares. They're probably all thinking, _What is that crazy girl doing?_ I continue to walk for three more minutes, until I reach a big gate that leads out to the forests. I stop silent and listen for the humming noise of the fence. Oh wait, the fence got remove while District 12 was being rebuilt. I put my hands on the gates and push away from me, and the gate opened.

I step out of the gate and take a deep breath. The fresh air was so relaxing, and the gentle breeze added even more to the environment. I walk slowing on the fresh earth, enjoying the change of environments. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something pelt away from me. It must be a deer. I chase after the thing as the adrenaline suddenly rush over me. I reach behind my back, wrapping my fingers around an arrow, and quickly load it onto the bow. I pull the of the bow back far, and let go, as the arrow jets through the air, hitting the deer. The deer flinched for a second, and then stopped moving.

I sold the deer to a meats trader in the new Hob, at least that's what I called it. He gave me a strange look. I get back home and to put the bow and quiver back into the box. Hunting was just not the same without Gale. Just as I was about to put the lid back on, Something caught my eye. I reach into the box, taking out a black-cover book, and set it on the stable as I sat down. I flip through the pages of the book. It was the scrapbook the Cinna made for me so I can fake my talent after becoming a victor. I continue to flip through the pages of beautiful ad elegant dresses that Cinna designed, until I reach one that was only half finished. I was never girly about fashion. But Cinna's work was not simply fashion, was it? I extend my arm to reach out to a pencil that was on the desk, and got to work.

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It took me a few hours, but I managed to finish it. I stand up and stretch my stiff body, feeling accomplished. I stand back to admire my work, but it wasn't as good as I imagined. It looked very… awkward. Parts of it are misshapen, crooked, or simply just don't fit in. I start to tear away the page from the scrapbook, but then I heard Cinna's voice.

_Learn from your mistakes_. He said. I stop midway and stopped to tear the page. I flip the page, and pressed my pencil on the paper.

I let the pencil sketch lines on the blank piece of paper, until the outline of the dress is completed. I then continue to sketch in some details, adding a bit of things here and there. In about an hour, I finish the design. I stare at the design I have just completed. Better, much better. But it was still not good enough. Well, at least not good enough to my standards. I need to make Cinna proud of me.

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I have practiced on the dress designing day after day, week after week, and have gotten better every single time I have attempted a new design. Slowly, I found Cinna's spirit working through my hands, letting the pencil flow through the paper, creating elegant lines, and beautiful decoration and details. My fake talent has become a real one. Cinna will be proud of me.

**Hope you enjoyed this! I based this story off of a headcannon I saw on tumblr.**


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